Angel to You, Devil to Me
by Maeke
Summary: It was ironic, really, that even though it was fire that destroyed plants, it was always she who destroyed him.
1. Angel to You, Devil to Me

A/N: i kind of wrote this a while ago, thought i should try it out.

* * *

Warren felt like he was on fire, but it would have been obvious in this lighting.

Layla's eyes fluttered shut, brushing against his cheek, but it was pointless in the blackness of the empty auditorium. She was only succeeding in blocking out the red glare of the exit signs.

He kept his eyes wide, trying to see by the red glare, hoping to take in every gasp from her smaller mouth, every wisp of her long hair, every touch from her delicate fingers. He wasn't sure the next time he would be able to take it all in.

They shouldn't have been there. Not necessarily because they were in the supposed-to-be-locked auditorium, not because they should have been catching the bus home right now, but because she technically belonged to someone else.

Someone, whose class ring hung nonchalantly about her neck as she ran her fingers through his hair, tugging lightly, accidentally. Her boy's initials—that he could only make out because he'd seen it so many times—read W. S. on each side of the blue birthstone.

He saw them together all the time. It was impossible not to: he practically paraded her around the halls, chest proud and that annoying grin on his face, as if he owned everything. Warren couldn't really blame Will for being arrogant—the rest of the school practically groveled at his feet, if only for his parentage. (Of course, that incident at homecoming last year certainly didn't damage his popularity.)

Warren's mouth found its way to her ear, a place he had discovered as her weak spot a few weeks ago. She practically melted into his arms, breathing even heavier.

He didn't know exactly when he started falling for her. Maybe it was that night in the Paper Lantern, when they sort of became friends. Or that night of homecoming, when she used her powers and kicked some ass.

But no…he had found Lauren that night. Lauren calmed him, numbed him. Put out his fire. Was his opposite and his equal. Lauren had been good for him…for a while.

Maybe it was when Layla started wearing more blue than green. When Lauren, the actress and Ice Queen, left him for Eduardo, the foreign exchange student who was telekinetic and had a much better singing voice.

When Layla cornered him at a party while Will was in the bathroom, and kissed him fiercely until she figured Will was probably looking for her. When she pretended later as if nothing happened, and he had set fire to a nearby tree in aggravation.

He kissed her harder now, using just a little more teeth than he intended. She was his, at least for right now, no questions ever asked, no explanations ever given. She clutched his body closer, deftly maneuvering her hands to shed his leather jacket.

"Warren," she gasped, as his lips moved to her neck.

He grunted. "What?"

She pushed him away, but only just barely. "We can't," she panted. "We shouldn't…"

Here she goes again. Which was it this time? She belonged to someone else, and she loved him, she really did. And Warren—he was his best friend!

"Best friends don't do things like this," she began.

His fingers clutched to her hips, and she was lifted to sit on the railing. "I guess it's a good thing I'm not your best friend," he muttered cheekily, leaning in for another kiss. She pushed him back, even if her legs remained on either side of him.

"I'm serious, Warren."

"No you're not." He was partly bluffing. After all, he couldn't really see her eyes. But if she was serious about it, she wouldn't keep finding these dark places to be with him.

"Warren, please. Don't do this to me."

"I never did anything to you," he protested. "You started it."

"But—" He refused to let her finish. He needed this, no matter how much he tried to believe otherwise. He needed her, even if it was only in dark and secret corners. At first she held back, but gave in, like always.

"Warren…" she whispered, hands in his hair.

"What now?" he groaned to her neck.

"I—I think—" She moaned softly when he began suckling her collarbone. "I—"

Then they were interrupted as lights flickered on dimly. "Fuck," he muttered. "Quick, this way."

Grabbing his jacket from the floor, he pulled her into a crevice between a fold-away wall and the real wall of the auditorium, something Lauren had shown him after one of her practices, in hopes of lighting fire between them.

He much rather preferred the tight quarters now. Lauren had always smelled of ice and cold, but Layla smelled like rain and warmth.

The janitor's whistling drifted through the auditorium, and Warren brought a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. He led her out through the back doors, and they ran down the empty halls, laughing from the adrenaline of almost being caught.

They finally slowed down near the Mad Science lab, their laughter dying. He gently pressed her up against a locker, looking into her eyes, reading what he could from them. She still wanted him, even if it was a slight glaze. There were flickers of fear, that they would get caught like this. An afterglow of laughter. But mostly that something he couldn't name, didn't want to name.

She kissed him softly. "I should be going," she murmured.

"Wouldn't want Will to worry," he replied darkly.

She broke their gaze, looking angry? "I told him not to wait up for me."

"Doesn't mean he wouldn't." She scoffed. "I would," he added in a small voice.

Shit. He hadn't really meant to say that. But while she looked slightly surprised, she looked mostly pleased. "You would?"

He shrugged, tried to play it off nonchalantly. "Yes."

She nuzzled her head into his shoulder. "That's cute."

He rolled his eyes. Just what he always wanted: to be cute. They stood there for a minute or two, just holding each other. Warren couldn't really picture anyone who could fit as well as her.

"I'll catch you later," she said, worming out of his embrace. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

She gave him another quick peck. "Love you." He froze, realizing what she had just implied.

But before he thought of any sort of response, she had already found her feet and was halfway down the hall. It was ironic, really, that while fire destroyed plants, it was always she who destroyed him.

He needed to find another tree to burn.


	2. The Secret's in the Telling

* * *

Layla could never justify why she put herself in these situations.

It was bad enough that she had just told Warren she loved him, but now she was walking away from him, knowing he was frustrated. She'd seen the panic in his eyes when she'd faux-breezily mentioned those two words, and was almost glad she'd chosen to do it as she walked away. He might've roasted her had she done it back in the auditorium like she'd wanted.

Okay, well, not roasted…but still. Warren could be temperamental, and she knew he would want answers come tomorrow. She just hoped she could give them to him.

Exiting into a chilly atmosphere, Layla clutched her arms around herself. She wished she had Warren's coat…even if it was leather. She fixed her clothes and touched up her make-up while she waited for the next bus—she wanted to look like she'd been staying after with a teacher, not her illegitimate boyfriend.

She _did_ love him. But it was a big step, to actually say it out loud; it wasn't like they had many conversations during their meetings about their feelings or anything. She wasn't even aware she loved Warren until the other day, when he had smiled at her behind Will's back. She always loved it when Warren smiled: he never did it enough, the surly bastard. But it was that smile, the one that made her heart flutter a bit, that made her realize just how deep she was in with him. And then, a few days later, here she was, telling him. She hadn't even said she loved Will until a few months into the relationship, and she'd been in love with him for years then.

She'd been afraid to say it to Will, even if it had been obvious. With Will, she was reserved, just plain old Layla, who was out to equalize the world, one green plant at a time. Being with Warren always made her feel like she could be someone else—someone reckless, passionate, even a little powerful. She took more chances with him, let him do things she'd never dream of letting Will do. —Like make out in a supposed-to-be empty auditorium.

After catching the after-school bus, she sat in silence, even as the bus driver attempted to make conversation with her. She was too wrapped up to consider small talk.

She hadn't exactly meant to kiss Warren that first night. She admitted that she had been tipsy, and the kiss wasn't supposed to have meant anything. She had just been curious, is all. Curious about how Warren tasted, how well he kissed compared to Will. At least, that how she tried to justify it. And she supposed the reason she allowed him to kiss her the next time was because her relationship with Will had gotten…stale.

Will became her best friend in first grade. After the first year or two of discovering everything about each other, they settled into a comfortable companionship. The same deal had happened with their romantic relationship: a year into it, they had settled into holding hands on the way to class, smiling across classrooms, only kissing goodbye. Now, two years in, he just…didn't make her heart flutter anymore. Not the way Warren could, at least.

She still loved him, of course. That was what was so unfair about the situation. Will's love was so pure, so innocent, even if a little ignorant. He called her princess, and treated her like one, taking her on romantic trips to Paris, Rome, London, anywhere she wanted. He was a nice guy, and she would hate to break his heart, especially with the fact that she was also in love with his best friend.

At the same time, though, she kind of liked being the bad girl. The girl with a secret, who broke hearts. But she didn't know which she liked more, being the princess or the heartbreaker.

When she was finally home, her mother asked her about her day.

"Oh, you know. Same old, same old. I had to stay after, ask Mr. Boy something about our next text." She had used the same lie with Will, who had thankfully run off with Zack to study for Mr. Medulla's test rather than stick around and ask Mr. Boy questions as well.

Her mother accepted the lie easily, and Layla found her way up to her room. Luckily, she, like Will, had an easily accessible roof outside her window, which was where she found herself an hour and a half later, in a borrowed sweatshirt of Will's, when he came swooping out of the sky.

"Hey," he said, smiling at her surprise.

"I hate it when you do that," she mentioned, her hand to her chest, as if it would regulate her heartbeat. As he settled next to her, his head in her lap, she asked, "What's up?"

He shrugged, finding her hand and twining his fingers with hers. "I missed you."

It was times like this when her love for him resurfaced, and remembered why she'd fallen in love in the first place. "It's only been like, three hours."

He shrugged again, kissing her wrist.

"How did studying go?" she asked, smiling slightly, knowing something was bound to have gone wrong with Zack around.

He smiled, but still studied her hand intently. "Zack accidentally made a freeze ray-gun instead of a heat ray-gun, and then froze half of my bedroom when he was trying to prove it was a heat gun."

She giggled. "Why am I not surprised?"

He twined his fingers between hers again, putting their hands on his chest: she could almost feel his heartbeat. "I had to fix the gun to unfreeze my room." They laughed together, but then lapsed into silence, as they often did, having run out of new topics to discuss and stories to tell long ago, as the sun faded behind them. It was times like this when she wished for Warren.

"Warren's birthday is coming up soon," Will said suddenly.

Layla briefly froze at the mention of Warren's name, but quickly recovered. "Yeah. Thursday or something, right?" She of course knew the exact date, but didn't want to make Will feel bad.

He nodded. "Yeah, Thursday, January 19th." He was obviously proud of the fact that he had remembered. Then he deflated again. "I don't know what to get him."

She had been planning on getting Warren a copy of Tolstoy's War and Peace—the fact that his name shared such a close resemblance and that no one had done it yet meant that she just had to. "Just get him a card and some money. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"Maybe I'll throw him a party—a surprise party."

Layla gave Will a look. "You know Warren doesn't like parties." He'd rarely come to them as it was, but after the kissing incident, he avoided them at all costs, similar to whenever he saw Lauren walking down the hall.

"But he'll _have_ to like this one. After all…it's his birthday party. We're celebrating it whether he wants to or not."

Layla rolled her eyes, smiling because she knew she was supposed to, until his eyes closed under the movements of her fingers; her hand had reached for Will's hair at some point during the conversation, and was now just running her fingers through.

After Warren had cut his hair—on his mother's insistence for senior pictures—the only difference between the boy's hairstyles were the colors. Warren maintained red streaks through his black locks, while Will's were just plain brown, even after last year's incident involving Warren, Zack, bleach, and blue hair dye. Layla frowned when she caught a slight snarl and tugged lightly, but didn't receive any sort of response. Warren would have at least growled, but Will just kept his eyes closed, as if he had fallen asleep.

"Layla!"

Will jerked awake at the sound of her mother's voice, and was up within seconds. He helped Layla to her feet in a matter of only two more.

"What, Mom?" she yelled back, as Will kissed her cheek.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he muttered. "Love you."

"Okay," she whispered, moving to kiss him as well, but he had already taken off in a gust of wind. "...Love you too." She sighed. Was it sad that these brushes with mothers were the closest thing to adventure the two had?

The door to her room opened as she halfway through her window. "What were you doing outside, Layla?" her mother asked, accusation underlying in her words.

Layla shrugged, swinging her other leg over her windowsill. "Just thinking."

"You know I don't like you going out on the roof."

Layla could see her mother getting distracted, and politely steered her back on course. "Was there a particular reason you needed me?"

Her mother's face snapped back to focus on the matter at hand. "Oh, yes—Warren's here. He said he had to talk to you."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry to leave on a bit of a cliff-hanger. Hope you liked it anyway. Sorry if it was wordy and such--it was mostly just Layla thinking. Trying to justify, as it were. Reviews are lovely and much appreciated!**


	3. Tell Me

**Okay, so, I am sooooooooooooo sorry to not have updated sooner. First my flash drive died, and then I was having a tough time getting inspiration for this chapter. It's my longest chapter yet, though, if that's any consolation.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Will was often left wondering.

In some cases, he didn't really want the answer, because he wouldn't really understand it. Like why Magenta didn't have a name that wasn't a color. Why Layla had "Team Edward" written on the cover of her Mad Science notebook. Why villains always made long speeches.

In others, he only wanted the answer for the time being, for instant gratification. Like in Mad Science, when he asked how radioactive spiders reproduced. What was for dinner. The color of Layla's underwear the other day.

In still other cases, he _needed_ the answer; it was almost vital to survival. Like what he got on his Hero History test. How he was going to get Warren to his surprise party tonight. Why Layla had been acting so weird lately.

Luckily, Will wasn't often left wondering for long, and he intended to get answers.

"Hey Layla," he said, catching up to her at her locker; he'd just won another Save the Citizen with Warren at his side, and was feeling particularly good.

"Hey." He waited for her to look at him and smile, like she usually did, but she seemed particularly intent on digging out her Villain Psychology book.

He sighed, his good mood deflating. "Layla, are you okay?"

"What?" She looked up, pausing her efforts for a moment. She looked worried, tired, stressed. He couldn't really fathom why; she'd been getting A's in all her classes, and, as far as he knew, there hadn't been any super-villains lately to save the world from.

"You've been acting funny lately…"

She shrugged, returning to her struggles. "No, I haven't. I'm fine." Will nudged her aside and easily pulled out the book she had been struggling with. "Thanks," she said, moving to take it from him, but he held it out of her reach, hoping to get her to laugh and struggle for it. "C'mon, Will. Give it to me!"

"Make me," he taunted. She gave him her best death glare, and he wilted completely.

"Thank you," she said, tucking it under her arm and shutting her locker angrily. Then she sighed, reconsidering her mood. Turning and kissing his cheek, she said, "I'm sorry, it's just…this party, you know?"

He raised an eyebrow, joining her lean against the lockers. "What about it?" His parents had approved; most of Warren's gifts has been given yesterday, on his real birthday, so gifts shouldn't be an issue; Warren hadn't caught wind yet…as far as he knew, everything was going according to schedule. Well, except for the whole getting Warren there thing. But he would figure out something…

"I don't really like keeping secrets," Layla said slowly, staring out the window.

"Well, it's only for like…six more hours," he said, twining his fingers through hers. "Then you can tell him everything."

"But that's a whole quarter of a day!" she complained, allowing him to pull her from the wall and toward her next class.

"Oh, how will you survive?" She smiled, but it still seemed a bit distant. They walked in silence for a few more steps, until he had an idea. "Hey, why don't you and I go to Paris this weekend? I know how you like it in the winter."

"That'd be really nice," she said with a smile, as they arrived at her classroom.

He grinned, glad he'd done something to make her happy, and kissed her cheek. They made plans to make plans later, and Will almost began saying something about Warren's party when the man himself walked up.

"Hey, Will, Layla," Warren said.

"Nice teamwork today," Will said, offering him a fist to pound, as he would with Zack or Ethan. Warren gave him an eyebrow in response. "Sorry."

The bell rang, cutting any more conversation short. "Crap. I'll catch you guys later!" Will said, pecking Layla on the cheek and running off.

Six and a half hours later, a fairly nice party was underway, if Will said so himself. He'd managed to get Warren to his house by claiming they should see a movie—and they should also meet at Will's house, in order to take the same vehicle and save gas, you know? Help the earth. Meet at my house around seven? Great! See you there.

They had all greeted him with a grand "Surprise!" but the look on Warren's face had told him it probably wasn't much of one.

Then again, Warren didn't exactly have many facial expressions.

However, seven and a half hours later—after a rousing chorus of "Happy Birthday," way too much fire than his parents probably wanted in the house, and a shower of good wishes upon Warren—he had also lost his girlfriend. Deciding it was time to discuss Paris, he went off in search of her.

He didn't see her in the mess of people and music that occupied his living room…or the rest of the downstairs. Heading upstairs, beginning to get a bit worried, he also began hearing Warren's oh-so-dulcet tones coming from the guest room. He headed for the sounds, ready to say happy birthday again—for about the eighth time this week—when what he heard stopped him cold on the stairs.

"I'm sick of this, Layla. You keep saying you're going to tell him, and look! You haven't told him! When are you going to?"

Will took a few more steps, wondering if he really wanted to hear this, as Layla replied, "Warren, please, not now—"

"Layla, just tell him."

Will chanced a look through the crack of the door when there was too long of a pause for his liking. She was kissing him now; it made something burn in Will's stomach. She pulled away, but then nuzzled her head into Warren's shoulder and wrapped her arms around him, murmuring something Will couldn't hear. It made him angry, to see how naturally she fit there. As if they'd been doing it forever.

Not able to take anymore, he pushed open the door. "Layla?"

She quickly pulled away from Warren, panic crossing her face. "Will, hi!" she said, way too cheerily.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking from Warren's painfully apathetic face to Layla's completely guilty one. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted her to answer this question. Ever. "Oh wait…but I already know the answer to that question, don't I?"

She bit her lip, looking down at the ground. "Will, I'm so sorry…"

"Since—since when?" His brain hurt. His chest hurt. How could she? With _Warren_? Warren, who was standing there, all stony and stoic and stiff. Warren, who was supposed to be his best friend. Warren? Not _Warren._

"The party after homecoming," she finally said. "I…I've been…meaning to tell you."

"Tell me when, Layla? When we were graduating? Or maybe when we were getting married?"

"You thought we were going to get married?" she said, her voice small. He shook his head. Unable to even look at her at the moment, Will turned and began walking back downstairs.

"Will, no, please don't walk away!" she cried, chasing after him.

"Why not, Layla? It's what you want me to do, isn't it? Save you the trouble?"

"I—I need to explain this to you. You've got to understand, Will, it wasn't really anything that you did—"

"Layla, I really don't want to hear this right now." He grabbed an orange soda out of a cooler in the kitchen, not really looking at what he was picking.

"William, my brother!" Zach appeared out of nowhere, slinging an arm around Will's shoulders: Will shrugged him off.

"Not now, Zach." He stormed away, leaving both of them behind.

"What's wrong with him?" he heard Zach ask Layla.

"It's a long story," he faintly heard her reply, before the music drowned them out.

So that's what she'd been so weird about lately. It wasn't this stupid party…God, how could he have been so stupid?

"I don't like keeping secrets," he spat, quoting her from earlier. "Don't like it, my ass."

He found himself outside on his front porch; the cold air did little to dampen his temper. He attempted to open the soda, but in his anger, ended up twisting the entire bottle and exploding the cap and most of the soda. "Dammit!" But rather than risk going back inside and face Layla, he stood there, his hair dripping and sticky with soda, and looked out over to the street. Without thinking, he started for it, needing to just be gone, only to be stopped by someone calling his name.

"Will?"

He closed his eyes. Layla was not a person he should be around at the moment.

"Please…if you hate me, I don't care. Well, I do care, but I know I deserve it. But just…hear me out?"

He refused to turn around fully, knowing she was crying. The full-on sight would crush him even more. "What's there to hear, Layla? 'I'm sorry, I've been sleeping with your best friend'—"

"I have _not_ been sleeping with him!"

"But you want to," he spat. He still couldn't get over the fact that she had done this with Warren. It might have been the tiniest bit easier to forgive if she hadn't chosen his best friend.

"I cannot believe you! I'm trying to explain myself!" He gritted his teeth, biting back the numerous retorts he had, and she took his silence as invitation to speak. "Listen, it—it just _happened_, okay? I…I kissed him, when I was a bit drunk, and then…he kissed me back, and it felt really nice." He scoffed. Was this supposed to make him feel better? "And then we just…I don't know." She sighed, and an awkward pause fell. "…I love you too. I really do."

"Nice way of showing it," he muttered. He should have seen this coming. Trying to make him jealous by pretending to date Warren, their freshman year? Warning signs… they had probably been everywhere. Why hadn't he seen them?

"That's what made this so hard," she continued. "I love both of you…you have no idea what it's like—"

"Not really, Layla. Considering I've only ever loved one person. Hint: It's you." He chanced a glance at her: her mascara was running, and she looked terribly pained, but she remained silent for a few moments, looking toward the ground.

"I'm sorry you had to find out like this," she murmured finally. She looked back up, and he looked out over the trees again. "I was planning to tell you. That's why I've been so…weird, lately. I kept trying to, but then you'd go and do something cute and remind me why I loved you."

Will shook his head. "If I was so inadequate, you should have told me."

"You weren't inadequate, you were just different, Will! You two are so different from each other, and…" She sighed. "It's so hard to let go of you, you have no idea."

"I think I might."

She sighed. "I'm sorry, okay?" He remained silent. "I hope you don't hate me forever. I mean…you still were my best friend for practically a decade. And I'll always love you."

"Just not as much as him," he muttered. "Just—go away, Layla. I need to cool off."

"Layla, I can't find him—"

Will whipped around, recognizing the voice instantly. Warren had stepped outside, gently steaming in the cold, having seen Layla but not Will. Just seeing him standing there, one hand on Layla's shoulder, sent Will running for the edge to jump off of.

"Don't talk to me ever again," he spat at Warren. The taller boy's face remained stiff as he removed his hand from Layla's shoulder; he was starting to smoke.

Will knew his face was screwed up with rage. This was Warren's fault. If Warren had never come into the picture, Will would still have his girlfriend. "My world will be a whole lot better without you in it, Peace."

Warren, usually the most temperamental of their friends, would not answer to Will's challenges, strangely; all he did in response was turn back to Layla. "I'll meet you inside," he said quietly, as if Will wouldn't be able to hear it.

Will snapped. He took three steps forward, and his fist landed squarely in the middle of Warren's smoking chest, sending him flying backward through the wall.

* * *

**And there you go, with a bit of a cliffhanger. And I know, I know, I didn't go through the confrontation between Warren and Layla from the last chapter--but I'll get to that later, I promise. Sorry if anyone seemed out of character.**

**Reviews make me really really really happy, even if they are just to yell at me for not updating sooner.**


	4. Skeptics and True Believers

**Hi! Sorry it has taken so incredibly long to return, but hopefully this chapter will tide you over until I can finish up the last two... and, just to let you know, they are _totally_ almost finished. Well, one of them. Maybe.**

**But anyway, here you are!**

**Loves, Maeke**

* * *

Magenta would be the first to admit she was not always the most willing participant in things.

She would sometimes rather sit out than engage, but she still engaged. She didn't exactly _want_ to help save the world, but she did. She didn't exactly _like_ to dance, but she did. She didn't really like parties, but she still went. She didn't want to sit next to the senior gossip girls of Sky High, but she did.

"I still can't believe he snapped like that," one of them muttered. She was Sarah; small, blonde, telekinetic. "I mean, did you see what happened to his _house_?"

Magenta rolled her eyes, hardly able to believe the topic they had chosen to discuss again. The school had been buzzing non-stop about Warren's surprise party and the aftermath for the past three days—as if the weekend hadn't been long enough—and she was getting rather sick of it.

"I know! But did you hear the latest on Layla?" That was Brittany; tall, brunette, telepathic. She appeared to be their leader. "Apparently, she's been dating Warren behind Will's back for months!"

"No!" They all looked completely happy about the scandalous nature of this news.

"Yeah, ever since this last homecoming. Remember that party at Rebecca Hartwigson's?"

"The one where Layla got drunk?" That was Wendy; pale, Asian, technopathic.

Brittany nodded. "Apparently, that's where they had their first lover's tryst."

_Tryst?_ Magenta thought. _More like a drunken kiss. God…don't you people have lives?_

Brittany stiffened, then turned around. "Excuse me?"

Magenta raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"If you're thinking something about me, you should say it."

"It's a bit rude to barge in on people's thoughts."

"It's not like I can help it when you're practically shouting them at me," Brittany said in a tone that was meant to be scathing.

"I wasn't shouting my thoughts, I was thinking them. Excuse me for believing I had some privacy in my own head."

Brittany rolled her eyes and turned back to Wendy and Sarah, picking back up on the conversation. "I can't believe she would do something like that. Especially with Will's best friend. I mean…"

"I would," Wendy broke in. "Warren _is_ one of the more attractive men at this school."

"Of course he is, but pure attractiveness doesn't mean you get to go behind your boyfriend and be with his best friend."

"He must be feisty in bed," Wendy giggled, not really listening.

"It's just so _tragic_," Sarah said. "Layla was always such a good girl. Now she's gone off and made herself a harlot."

Brittany raised her perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Harlot?"

"My mother called her that."

Magenta couldn't believe it. They were sharing this kind of gossip with their mothers? Didn't they have any respect for Layla's feelings?

"I bet this is like, some cry for attention or something," Brittany said, tossing her hair. "I mean, remember sophomore year, when they 'pretended' to date to get Will jealous?"

"_I_ was jealous," Wendy admitted.

Brittany rolled her eyes. "Maybe she actually wants Will and is just seeing how far he'll go to get her back."

"Have you ever thought maybe she just made a mistake?" Magenta piped up. All three turned to face her simultaneously. It would have been amusing, had Magenta not been so annoyed with them. "I mean, it's not like she was planning to ruin her life or…cause a scandal. She made a mistake, and everyone should just get over it."

The trio looked prepared to respond, but just then, the bell rang. Deciding she wasn't really worth responding to, the girls stood and shouldered their bags—still in unison—and cat-walked their way out of the classroom.

Magenta rolled her eyes. The rumors that had been flitting around were starting to get on her nerves. Some—like that Will and Warren were actually having a lover's spat, and Layla was just caught in the middle—were just too outlandish for her to consider. Others—like that Warren and Layla had already been dating for a while—hit a bit too close to the truth.

Many students had also taken sides, which Magenta thought totally unnecessary, and most had sided with Will. People Will had hardly ever spoken to before were walking up to him in the halls, offering to beat Warren up or words of encouragement. A few came up to Layla, though, offering support and understanding.

Zach, one of the few who actually had any right to take sides, had sided with Will, having had a much longer history with him. Ethan remained neutral, too afraid of either party to take sides. Magenta refused to take part for the sheer lunacy of the situation.

As a result, lunch had been turning into an awkward situation. Zach wanted her to sit with him and Will, while Layla was looking awful lonely at a table by herself, and Ethan just tried to find a safe middle ground. Magenta decided to take her meal outside.

She was perfectly fine with it—out here there was no one glaring across the lunchroom, no one whispering over who did what. Out here, she could think.

And, of course, what did her thoughts turn to? The fight. She remembered it well, if only for the sheer fact that Warren didn't fight back for very much of it. She only wished she had realized something had been wrong before Warren came flying through Will's front wall.

_At first, most of the guests stood in complete shock, especially when Will came storming through after Warren. He stood up and shook off the drywall dust, but it seemed to keep floating from him._

"_Is he smoking?" Ethan muttered excitedly. "I think he's smoking!" Magenta hushed him._

"_Will, I don't want to fight you," Warren said carefully, his fists clenching and unclenching._

"_Will, this is stupid! Calm down! Look what you did to your house!" Layla stepped over the remains of the wall._

_Will didn't seem to care. He stalked forward, saying, "You're going to wish you never met me." Magenta had never seen anyone so angry—and that included the boys' fights at school and various superhero vs. archnemesis battles._

"_Who says I don't already?" Warren replied. Will sent him flying into the kitchen._

_Layla and Zach were the first to follow. Magenta and company followed. "Why did you do it, Warren?" Will was asking, clutching at Warren's collar and lifting him from the rubble. "Why?"_

"_I didn't mean to, Will. God, do you think people mean to—" Warren stopped himself, as if aware of all the people and afraid to spill too much in front of them. He was struggling against Will's strong grip, but wouldn't flame up._

"_Dude, what's going on?" Zach asked, obviously trying to stop them before even more property was destroyed._

_Will glared in Zach's general direction. "Stay out of this."_

"_Will, stop," Layla tried again._

_Layla's discouragement only seemed to fuel Will. He threw Warren out into the backyard. "Fight back!" he yelled, picking Warren up again by the collar. Warren was still smoking, and seemed to be struggling against flaring up. "Fight back, you coward!"_

_Warren glanced at Layla, before struggling to say the next sentence. "I promised her I wouldn't."_

"Magenta?"

She looked up to see Layla standing there. Speak of the devil. She was looking a bit nervous, but even more tired. "Hey. What's up?"

"Can I—can I sit with you?"

Magenta shrugged, then moved her backpack from the wall beside her and placed it at her feet; Layla took the previously occupied space. Magenta silently offered chips from her bag, but Layla turned them down. They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Layla burst out.

"Do you hate me?"

"No." She didn't even have to think about it.

Layla looked surprised. "You don't?"

"Why would I?"

"Because—because I—"

"I don't really care if you've been with Warren behind Will's back. It's not my business."

Layla sighed. "Why can't everyone be like that?"

"Because everyone is an idiot."

Layla smiled weakly, before looking back at the ground. "Will won't even talk to me anymore."

"You did kind of get with his best friend. He's going to be angry for a while."

"Yeah, I know…but I'm his best friend, too. At least, I used to be."

Magenta shrugged. "Things change."

Layla sighed, the puff sending a piece of her red bangs flying. "You can say that again."

"Things change."

Layla caught sight of Magenta's grin and smiled. "…Thanks."

Magenta shrugged again, and they just sat in silence. Well, except for Magenta munching on the last of her chips. Layla seemed content, however, to just sit there until the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. When that happened, Layla slowly stood, shouldering her bag. "See you tomorrow," she said quietly, before disappearing back inside.

She didn't really mean to take sides, but she did.


End file.
